Arrow - A New Species Fanfiction (Wild at Heart Chronicles, Book 2)
by J.D.L.Torre
Summary: Sophie Valentine discovers she will be sharing her land with one of Reservation's Wild Zone residents, a Mercile failure named Arrow who is unhappy with this arrangement and is determined to scare her off his territory by any means necessary. What the male doesn't count on, is falling in love with his enemy in the process. Book 2 of my New Species Fanfiction. Full synopsis inside!
1. Synopsis

Desperate to escape the infatuations of a madman, Sophie Valentine relocates to a small town in Northern California determined to salvage the remnants of her fractured life. Left mute and broken as a child after the events of a tragic accident, Sophie knows better than anyone moving to the rural area will be more than a challenge for someone like her. The townspeople aren't interested in offering a job to a "cripple," and her new home not only looks potentially haunted but is in serious need of repair. To complicate matters further, Sophie discovers part of the land she purchased will be shared with one of Reservation's Wild Zone residents. A minor detail she is not made aware of, until the NSO comes knocking at her doorstep to offer her a warning about their disgruntled male.

Although frightened by the prospect of a neighbor who appears to be more beast than man, and one who harbors an obvious dislike for humans, she is assured the feline called Arrow is forbidden by Species Law from crossing into her "territory."

A law, unfortunately, he seems determined to break- if it will convince her to move out for good.

Yet with each perilous encounter, Sophie gradually learns there is more to the male's savagery than meets the eye. A sliver of his humanity still remains intact beneath the ruthless animal Mercile conditioned him to be, and it is a connection she is as adamant to resist as he is.

But Species cannot refuse the bond for long.

Not without consequences.

And when a sinister threat from her past discovers her sanctuary, Sophie is uncertain which of the two predators she should fear most: a man driven by his disturbing obsession, or a beast who yearns to earn a place in her heart.

**Author's note**

All rights and original characters from the New Species series belong to the awesome Laurann Dohner. "Arrow" is set in Dohner's world, and is roughly set five months after the events in Shield.

Enjoy, my lovelies.

Reviews are appreciated! :)


	2. Prologue

**Prologue**

Tiger snarled, storming into Cell Block D wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants and a thunderous expression on his face. His blue eyes registered the presence of three others standing vigil in the basement as he strode towards the large holding cell, but once they honed in on the unconscious male locked inside it he wanted to throw his head back and roar. The sight of Arrow's ankles secured with chains to the floor, along with cuts and bruises from yet another fight he'd initiated with a Wild Zone resident, had become far too frequent over the past eight months for Tiger's liking.

It was three o'clock in the morning, damn it, and all the exhausted feline wanted to do was get this meeting over with, so that he could return to his mate and newborn cub.

Taking a calming breath, he raked a hand through his disheveled hair and turned to Slade, the canine appointed as Head of Reservation. Unlike Tiger, his friend had managed to grab a decent pair of jeans and a t-shirt for the occasion. His eyes were red-rimmed from his disrupted sleep, but when he sensed Tiger's gaze on him they crinkled with amusement.

The feline scowled. "My man, how the hell can you find this shit funny?"

"Perspective," Slade replied, stifling a yawn as he crossed his arms over his chest with a grim smile. "Shield tied Arrow's arms and legs with a rope, and then he dragged his ass all the way here by his tail."

"What?!" Tiger blanched. He glanced back into the cage, noticing the tip of Arrow's spotted tail now had a small kink that hadn't been there before. After processing that bit of information, an unsettling thought struck him. "Wait a minute, you're telling me Shield brought him in this time?"

"Alive, thankfully," the younger Dr. Harris mumbled from across the room. He stood next to his mate, Midnight, sipping coffee from a Styrofoam cup while he studied the prisoner with a grimace. "Jesus."

"The male will survive his injuries," Midnight reassured him, although the female's tone suggested she didn't care if he did one way or another. "Shield interrupted a territory challenge between Arrow and a canine when the idiot males ended up accidentally crossing into the bear's territory during their fight. We put the canine in Cell Block F until he calms, though physically he is in far better shape than this one."

Tiger shook his head, feeling little sympathy for the damage the obstinate feline sustained at the hands of the former rogue.

Arrow was out of control.

He had been, since the very beginning.

It took only twenty minutes after the feline's rescue from the Nicolai testing facility for his case file to initiate as a result of his unpredictable behavior. The moment he and the two females in his company were freed from the burning building, the task force had been forced to tranquilize Arrow—formerly known back then as 328— after he attempted to escape into the out world. Hours later, Young Doc Harris became his first casualty. During the initial medical examination, the male had broken his restraints and fractured the doctor's wrist in a fit of rage. This would attest to Midnight's hostility towards Arrow, for if the injury to her mate hadn't been minor Tiger was certain the female would've killed him. Even now, her lips were curled in utter contempt as she glared at the male contained within the holding cell.

Tiger balled his hands into fists and closed the remaining distance to the cage with caution, the sound of the male's deep, steady breathing reaching his ears. Reinforced steel bars separated the 20 x 20 foot space from concrete floor to ceiling, which contained a large cot, a sink, and a toilet. Initially, the medical staff had furnished the cell with a television and more comfortable bedding, but he would often destroy these within a matter of hours. Glancing over at the prisoner, Tiger felt a familiar sense of disquiet creep up his spine at the sight of the two hundred and sixty-five pound male. He was sprawled over the cot on his stomach, knocked out cold from either the sedatives or a blow to the head. Tiger assumed it was the latter, if the bandages wrapped around his cranium were any indication.

But even in repose, Arrow was a scary son of a bitch.

Although his face was concealed partly by his golden-brown mane, Tiger had seen him pacing in this cage often enough to memorize his exotic features. His long tail and the rosette patterns on his skin had been particularly shocking the first time he had encountered the feline in person, but it was nothing compared to his primal eyes as they tended to track everything in the room like it was potential prey.

"Why is he wearing those?" Tiger said, noticing the NSO sweatpants on the male. Usually he wore ragged cutoff jeans, and not much else. "I thought he stopped running around naked two months ago. Did he start again?"

"No, we had to discard his clothing," Dr. Harris replied coolly. "They were caked with filth, and he had a nasty cut on his left thigh that needed stitches." He hesitated. "My patient's going to have to stay in observation for a couple of days, but you know how he gets when he's locked up down here…"

Tiger sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose. "I'll assign a round of officers to guard him while he recovers."

Slade walked up to him and patted his shoulder. "Look on the bright side, yeah? Until the good doctor here discharges him, it'll give the Wild Zone residents and you a little break—"

"—And enough time for me to finalize securing more land for Reservation," a deep voice interjected from the doorway.

Startled eyes turned as Justice North entered the basement with a smile. He was shadowed a step behind by Bishop, who instead of following Justice into the room, he remained by the entrance and leaned his shoulder against the doorframe with a detached expression on his face. Both males wore jeans and a black tank top, their feet unhindered by shoes. It was evident neither of them had been expected to arrive tonight, but Tiger was relieved to see the NSO leader anyway—even given his special circumstances.

Four months ago, Justice had nearly lost Jessie and their son during labor due to complications. His mate wouldn't stop bleeding, and the cub had been born with a weak heartbeat. Tiger shuddered, pushing the horrible thought of the tragedy that could've befallen upon their leader from his mind. Instead, he felt the corner of his lips tilt up in a smile as he took in the feline's altered appearance.

For the duration of his mate's birthing recovery, Justice had taken a leave of absence and moved to a cottage secluded within a private sector in the Wild Zone. Since then, the feline had scarcely left his family's side and the council had taken over his duties. On occasion, however, he would wander into his office and work for half a day before returning to the Zone. Tiger recalled it was during one of these particular visits Justice had entered a Council meeting and shocked them all with an unexpected makeover. Even now, the NSO officer couldn't help but stare at his leader's short, black hair and be reminded of the males from the task force. The new look had caused quite a stir among the Species females, though Tiger suspected Miles Eron would not be sharing the same sentiment when the feline returned to Homeland.

"How badly is he hurt this time?" Justice directed the question to Dr. Harris, drawing their attention back to the matter at hand.

"He's stable," Slade grumbled before the doctor could reply to the question. He approached his leader to clap him on the shoulder. "We didn't want to concern you, my friend. I've got this, and Bestial is on his way. Go back to bed and be with your family. I will bring you a full report in the morning."

Justice chuckled. "Jessie and I were already awake when my phone alerted me of the situation. It is connected to the NSO's security mainframe, remember?"

"Is Honor still unable to settle at night?" Midnight asked, concerned for their leader's cub. "Do you wish for Trisha to have a look at him in the morning?"

Tiger grimaced, recalling his own cub's erratic sleeping schedule the first couple of weeks after he was brought home from Medical. He and Zandy had to take shifts during the night to get any sleep at all.

"Jessie and I have resigned ourselves to Honor's nocturnal habits for the time being," Justice informed them with a rueful smile. "My mate believes it's the panther in him."

Slade snorted. "How like a female to lay the blame on the father."

"I will be certain to repeat those words to Doc Trisha when I see her tomorrow," Midnight piped up.

Unconcerned by the threat, Slade grinned and turned his attention to her mate. "Lay it on him, Dr. Harris."

The doctor nodded and placed the Styrofoam cup on a nearby table, taking Arrow's medical chart in hand. He opened the thick file and read, "Three cracked ribs, a minor concussion to the head, and two of his caudal vertebrae are broken. The abrasions on his body should heal on their own within a matter of hours, but the tail…" He pursed his lips. "Well, it's not going to mend properly, I'm sorry to say. There was some ligament tearing where the section of the appendage is bent. I couldn't use the healing drug on him to repair it properly, even after resetting the bones."

Justice frowned at this. "Couldn't?"

"He seems to have an adverse reaction to something within the chemical compound of the drug," Dr. Harris explained, leafing through the folder. "Based on the limited information we gathered of the male's medical history, my father believes that during his captivity he developed a hypersensitivity to it and as a result it's only to be used under life of death circumstances."

"Life or death." Justice tilted his head, frowning in the direction of the male in question. "The healing drug makes him sick?"

"In a manner of speaking, yes. Aside from the symptoms we've already documented on other New Species when under the influence of the Mercile drug, Arrow displays an unusual form of mild psychosis. We're talking absolute regression of his mental state." Dr. Harris closed the medical chart and lowered his voice a notch, as though afraid his next words might carry beyond the basement's walls. "From Dr. Yard's clinical assessment when she was present during one of his episodes, she concluded the symptoms are linked to a traumatic event he experienced during his captivity. It manifests itself in either the persona of his animal counterpart or that of a child, both of whose personalities are so far apart in the spectrum it's as if there are two versions of this Arrow dormant inside him."

Justice remained silent, pondering the disturbing revelation with an unreadable expression on his face. Tiger knew the NSO leader was measuring the wisdom of releasing the male back to the Wild Zone, knowing that if he continued to provoke other residents, sooner or later the drug might be needed on him to save his life.

Species were lethal by nature, but one with a damaged mind was a publicity nightmare waiting to happen. With Arrow's track record, what if he escaped Medical under the influence of the drug and fled beyond their walls into the out world?

The anti-Species groups would have a field day at the NSO's expense, that much was certain.

"What about using a lower dosage?" Tiger asked, his mind reeling with the alarming scenario. "By my count, Arrow has been admitted to Medical thirty-seven times—"

"—Thirty-eight," Midnight corrected him. "And even a lower dosage will trigger the same reaction. Trust me, we have already tried."

"You're kidding me," Tiger groused at the unpleasant news, turning to Justice. "So far, his injuries have been manageable, but a life or death situation will change that. At the rate he's going, it's only a matter of when and not if. We need to strategize a better contingency plan if the healing drug is to be used on the male in the future." Tiger hesitated. "I also think we should give Sheriff Cooper a heads up, just in case. Some humans own property near Reservation."

Justice shook his head. "This is a Species matter, and it will be treated accordingly. We collaborate with the sheriff and his deputies to extend our solidarity, but only when it is a human problem they cannot resolve on their own. While I believe Cooper is a good man, I would not feel comfortable involving his entire department. Not all of them are Species friendly, although they attempt to hide their prejudice from him."

"Assholes," Midnight growled, curling her lips back with distaste. "They are too stupid to realize we can scent their lies."

"Didn't you mention something earlier about securing more land for Reservation?" Dr. Harris asked the NSO leader, steering the conversation to more pleasant ground. "Are all the negotiations settled?"

"Our lawyers have assured me that within a matter of hours, Reservation will be expanding its terrain with the addition of one hundred and fifty acres of woodland. Plenty of more space for our current residents to stretch their territories, and enough left over for more arrivals in the future." Justice's gaze strayed back to the unconscious male. "Arrow will be assigned a large section of land that will be located far enough away from the other males to appease his territorial needs, and dissuade him from seeking further confrontations. I will organize a patrol shift with some of the less hostile of the residents to make certain Arrow does not stray."

"There will not be many volunteers for that task," Midnight assured him, casting an icy glare towards the cage. "I would not hold my breath if I were you."

From the corner of his eye, Tiger caught a flicker of movement as Bishop suddenly let out an impatient growl and spun on his heel to leave. Before doing so, the male halted mid-step and glanced over his shoulder to lock his pale eyes on Justice. The act was so unexpected, they could only stare in stunned silence. Yet the NSO leader returned the canine's heated stare calmly, keeping his posture relaxed and his expression guarded. Neither exchanged a single word, but the longer their silence stretched the heavier the tension became until Tiger wondered if the two males would end up in a fight for dominance. He and Slade exchanged an uneasy glance, shifting an imperceptible inch closer to Justice in case the other attacked. Midnight maneuvered herself in front of a startled Dr. Harris, her cat-eyes narrowed on each male with annoyance.

"Enough," Justice's voice rumbled with authority, as he crossed his arms over his chest. "Speak your mind, Bishop. I would have your words."

After another uncomfortable moment of silence, Bishop finally slid his gaze from his leader to the cage and growled, "Territory alone will not fix problem with kot. A male needs purpose to find his place in strange world outside cages, but that feline has none. You will gain nothing by isolating him." A muscle along his jaw ticked. His hands clenched into fists as his voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "A male without purpose is nothing."

Delivering those parting words, Bishop stalked out of the basement without a backward glance.

"Well, that was…" Dr. Harris trailed off when he stepped away from Midnight's protective stance, casting an uneasy glance at the door before clearing his throat. "Never mind."

The Species exchanged a knowing look, all of them drawing the same conclusion from the canine's behavior. Bishop hadn't been the same male after the death of agent Natasha Delaney months ago, and it seemed Arrow's circumstances had triggered memories that were still too painful for him to cope with.

"He is still adjusting," Justice murmured, his tone resigned. As he turned to leave, he let out a weary sigh and focused on Dr. Harris. "I need Arrow to remain confined in Medical for at least a week before he can be relocated to his new home. Will this be a problem?"

Dr. Harris shook his head. "We'll make it happen, Justice."

Midnight and Slade murmured their agreement, bidding the NSO leader farewell.

Tiger inwardly groaned as Justice exited the basement, knowing damn well Medical would require extra shifts to guarantee the safety of its staff when dealing with the ornery feline. Arrow hated humans, almost as much as he loathed the scent of other males, and since a doctor was required to be on call at all times their presence was unavoidable. Tiger only hoped relocating the male would improve his disposition, if only just enough to keep him from stepping foot inside Medical again.

With that reassuring prospect looming on the horizon, the NSO officer squared his shoulders and went in search of a hot cup of coffee.

It was going to be one of those nights.

* * *

Ten hours later, unable to modify the terms of the expansion contract once finalized, Justice North would discover a grave miscalculation with the land he purchased.

A minor hiccup, his lawyers assured him with winning smiles, their expressions bearing the resemblance of hungry fish with sharp teeth.

Biting back a snarl of frustration, he excused himself from the boardroom meeting and stalked back home to his family. Their presence would quiet the turbulence inside him, though he couldn't help but cringe when his thoughts wandered back to the contract and the fate of two people he'd sealed with the scribble of his own signature. It was moments like these the Species feline wished someone would remove the mantle of leadership from his shoulders.

Its weight was becoming unbearable.

* * *

 **Author's Note : Muahaha! I'm back, my lovelies. Looking forward to another roller coaster ride with you. I look forward to your reviews and questions ;)**


	3. Chapter 1- Welcome Wagon

**Chapter 1**

 **WELCOME WAGON**

Like a true city girl from Queens, cornered by an intruder in her very own kitchen, Sophie Valentine wielded the broomstick in her hands as though it were a mighty sword and cursed her rotten luck for her inability to scream. If she could use her voice—just _once_ — she would let out a warrior's battle cry, preferably with an obscenity or two thrown in, right before her foe met an unfortunate end.

In theory, anyway.

 _Oh, who am I kidding?_ Sophie thought, disgusted with herself. _I'm just a big marshmallow, and that thing knows it._

It appeared her unfortunate knack for attracting unwanted company, had followed her all the way to Whispering Grove, California.

Panting with exertion from her position on the wooden table, Sophie stared in horror as the thing skittered across the floor to climb over the colander she'd thrown at it in a moment of panic. It sat there staring at her, looking far too pleased with itself as it wiggled its fang-tipped jaws.

 _Eeeww…_

Unable to bear the sight, Sophie cast her attention to the disaster she'd created in the wake of the creature's discovery. She took stock of the wreckage with a critical eye, breathing a sigh of relief when she realized most of the kitchenware she'd used as a projectile weapon was stainless steel and quite resilient upon impact. Despite that, however, had Sophie known a mutant-sized spider would be appointing itself as the welcome wagon, she would have reconsidered her destination before dragging in the last moving box into her new home.

For example, Florida.

While they did have alligators, Sophie was almost certain they were far more appealing to look at than the petulant arachnid.

Alligators, at least, had far less appendages.

And probably more manners.

The latter was only speculation, of course, but of the two, it would without a doubt be the spider plaguing her nightmares for the next decade. Sophie shuddered, recalling the moment she opened the kitchen cupboard to grab a coffee mug, only to come face to face with eight beady eyes and a pair of fangs. She could've sworn her fingertips had even brushed one of the spider's hairy legs, right before it sprang from the cupboard and chaos ensued.

Now, for reasons beyond her comprehension, the thing had decided to hold her hostage by refusing to crawl back to the bowels of hell from whence it came. Frustrated, Sophie knelt on the table, ignoring the familiar ache on her left knee as it pressed against the wood, and inched the broom closer.

 _Shoo!_

The spider reared back and lifted four of its eight legs, baring its fangs at the offending object. Sophie jerked the broom away, terrified it would latch onto the bristles and crawl with lighting speed across the handle to reach her.

 _Nope_ , whether she liked it or not, she was stuck.

 _Unless…_

Sophie judged the eleven-foot distance from the table to the sink across from her, contemplating on the window above it as an alternative escape route since the spider stood resolutely between her and the doorway to her left. There was also the door next to the pantry, which lead to the back deck overlooking the woods. But she discarded that route, realizing that exit was too close to the kitchen doorway and the sentry blocking her escape.

 _The window it is, then._

Bracing her hands on the table, she lifted her good leg from under her weight in preparation, but froze when the sound of a distant rumble reached her ears.

 _Thunder…?_

Sophie glanced beyond the window with a frown, seeing nothing but clear weather and a view of the woodland countryside. But as the sound continued to escalate, her lips parted in shock when she finally identified it as the growl of an engine—no, _several_ engines— approaching her property. The window in her kitchen didn't face the gravel road leading up to her home, a flaw in the layout she'd obviously overlooked during her walkthrough and was now regretting deeply.

Her survival depended upon the utmost vigilance to her surroundings at _all_ times.

How could she have missed that?

Glancing down to make certain the spider had remained it its place, Sophie relaxed her pose and sat with her legs crossed over the tabletop to listen.

Tires rolled over uneven terrain as the sound of the engines slowed, hummed momentarily, and then came to an abrupt silence. Multiple car doors opened and slammed, followed by the crunch of footsteps and a low murmur of voices. She imagined her visitors, whomever they were, had likely noticed her old Toyota truck stationed by the side of the house and concluded someone was home. A full minute of silence passed, then another, until at last a pair of heavy footfalls thumped against the wooden planks of her veranda and someone knocked on the front door.

On impulse, Sophie opened her mouth to call out, but caught herself and rolled her eyes to the ceiling. She rested the broom across her lap to weigh her options, painfully aware of the fact that she wore only an oversize shirt and the underwear beneath it. When she'd roused from bed around noon, preceding the spider incident, she'd taken only a moment to brush her teeth and haphazardly wrestle her hair into a top knot before heading to the kitchen. It wasn't her most flattering ensemble to host guests, but another glance at the spider spurred her decision.

If forced to choose between the arachnid and an assembly of strangers, she'd pick the lesser of two evils any day.

When the second knock on the door came, Sophie used the handle of the broom to slam it against the table so that it mimicked the knocker. A pregnant silence followed this action, so she waited until the person knocked hesitantly a second time before repeating the motion.

 _This is your fault_ , she thought, throwing the spider a scathing look. _I hope you're happy. These people are going to think I'm nuts, no thanks to you!_

Not surprisingly, the spider said nothing and continued to wiggle its fang-tipped jaws.

By the third round of knocking, Sophie heard the sudden _thud_ of more feet climb the steps to the veranda and begin to walk across the planks bordering her home, presumably to investigate the source of the noise reciprocating it. She knew the walkway wrapped all the way around the exterior of the structure and would eventually lead someone to the kitchen area.

Bracing herself for the encounter, she turned to the window and plastered on an awkward smile as the sound of a solitary pair of footsteps drew closer at a measured pace. Yet when the figure of a man dressed in a black uniform appeared outside the window, impossibly tall with a rather intimidating build, Sophie's smile faltered.

It wasn't the penetrating gaze of his cold, blue eyes that shocked her to the core, but rather the immediate realization that the stranger staring back at her wasn't entirely… _human_.

He was New Species!

Stunned, Sophie belatedly recalled why the cottage had been relentlessly sought after by interested buyers before the bequest of the property was left in her name. Even if Old Sal, the original owner, had neglected its upkeep for years while he was still alive, the property value had skyrocketed once its exotic neighbors had taken residence near the outskirts of Whispering Grove.

A ten mile distance lay between Sophie's home and New Species Reservation, a vast woodland sanctuary owned by the people who'd been liberated from Mercile Industries. Over the years, the town became a popular hotspot for all manner of Species fanatics, but due to the hate groups being among them, the survivors were hardly ever seen wandering beyond the protection of their high walls.

And yet, one was standing just outside her window.

The man in black squinted his eyes and took a step closer, wiping a layer of dust from the glass with his hand as he regarded her. Sophie returned the scrutiny with equal measure, her eyes taking in the pronounced structure of his cheekbones and the peculiar flat shape of his nose. He'd secured his black hair into a ponytail, allowing nothing to hinder his arresting features nor the small notch on the curve of his left ear. She noticed the man's frown deepen as his eyes lowered to the kitchen floor and spotted the mess she'd made, before they shot upward and lingered on the broom still gripped in her hands. When his gaze finally leveled with hers again, something imperceptible shifted in his expression.

"Female, do you need assistance?"

Sophie jumped at hearing the rumble of his deep voice, surprised that even with a barrier between them the sound had a likeness to a brewing storm. It held authority, yet she didn't miss the underlying note of concern when he addressed her.

 _Come on, Sophie. Don't be a big wuss, just do it!_

Pushing aside her reservations, she clasped her hands together and then pointed to the floor. The man followed the direction of her finger, but after a cursory inspection he shook his head in apparent confusion. She waited until his attention returned to her face.

 _Spiiideeeeer_ , Sophie mouthed the word slowly, crossing her hands together and wriggling her fingers. She didn't expect him to understand ASL, but the impression should've been obvious. At least, it had been to _her_ when she'd first learned to sign the word as a child.

Once she'd repeated the gesture, she stared expectantly at him.

The Species shook his head again.

 _Seriously, how can he not tell—?_

Sophie's skin prickled with a sudden awareness, stilling the thought and replacing it with foreboding. She glanced down and felt the air rush out of her lungs when she discovered the spider had disappeared from the floor, and was now scaling the wall nearest to her table.

Close.

 _Too_ close.

Instinct took hold of Sophie before reason could, and in her haste to escape the creature, she recoiled—only to feel the world tilt backward as her hands lost purchase with the table. Searing pain exploded behind her eyelids when the back of her head smacked against the floor, just as the sound of a crash echoed from somewhere in the distance and her vision faded to black.

* * *

"Torrent, stop pacing," a woman implored, her sympathetic tone edging towards exasperation. "You are making my head spin."

"We should've taken her to Medical," a deep voice growled. "She has been unconscious for too long, Creek!"

"Perhaps I should give her a kiss?" another suggested with a teasing lilt. "It might shock her awake."

An animal snarled, the sound loud and menacing.

"Torrent, _calm_ ," a fourth voice commanded. This one belonged to another man, his manner of speaking suggesting unquestionable authority. When the snarling ceased, his next words held a note of censure. "Wager, Species males do not molest unconscious females. It would defeat the purpose of this visit, and I sincerely doubt this human would be flattered by your attentions without her consent."

 _Species…?_

Sophie clung to that word like a lifeline, struggling to surface from the depths of a dark place as sensations began to register in her mind with gradual clarity.

The smell of earth and cedar.

Softness pressing against her back.

And a dull ache pulsing from the back of her head, while a more familiar one radiated from her left knee.

"Listen," the woman whispered. "Her breathing pattern has changed. I think she is waking—"

"—Torrent, wait!"

Sophie heard the rush of footsteps, felt the vibrations of someone approach her from the right, and when something rough brushed against her left cheek she jolted awake. The face of a man filled her vision, his looming presence there so foreign she could only stare back in utter confusion...and a growing sense of unease. He had pretty cornflower blue eyes, framed by a face that was as striking as it was alien, but it was the small notch on his left ear that stirred her muddled thoughts.

 _The New Species from the window!_

The man— _male_ — held her gaze as he brushed a stray lock of hair from her eyes, the calloused texture of his fingertips grazing her forehead and causing gooseflesh to rise on her skin.

"Are you alright?" he whispered.

The inflection of concern sounded genuine to Sophie's ears, if a little alarming with his gruff voice, but sensing the poor Species needed some reassurance she offered him a hesitant smile and nodded.

A crease appeared over his forehead as his eyes dropped to her lips, his gaze lingering there far too long for her comfort. It made Sophie abruptly aware of the warmth radiating from his imposing frame hovering over her much smaller one, and how the soothing touch of his fingertips had settled over her temple. She struggled to quell her body's response to his ministrations, but an embarrassed heat crawled up her neck and settled over her cheeks before she could stop it.

"We should leave Torrent here to bond with the female," an irate voice called out, this one male. "Clearly, she does not mind being molested by one of us when she is awake."

Sophie turned to the speaker—a tall, blond Species in a black NSO uniform leaning against the far wall—just as the one closest to her sliced his gaze in the same direction and growled. The blond Species curled his upper lip to reveal a pair of sharp canines, reciprocating the threat with a growl of his own. The sounds they emitted were so inhuman, she couldn't help but gasp and inch back in alarm, though there was hardly enough distance to spare on what she slowly realized was the sofa in her living room.

"I will have you both escorted back to Reservation if you do not behave," the third male warned in a soft voice. "You are frightening our host with your behavior."

Both Species grew silent at once. The blue-eyed one removed his hand from Sophie's temple and stepped back from the sofa, his expression apologetic. He glowered at the blond Species before he shoved his hands into his pockets, relaxing his pose to one less threatening. The blond Species remained by the wall with his arms crossed over his impressive chest, though he'd schooled his features to a more amicable one as he regarded her with avid curiosity.

Sophie hesitated to make any sudden movements, but when she sensed the two males weren't going to engage in a physical altercation she pushed herself into a sitting position. When she quickly reached the hem of her shirt to preserve her modesty, she discovered someone had covered her lower half with a blanket. It was the same one she'd used to sleep with last night, so she guessed one of them must've gone upstairs to retrieve it.

At last, a stroke of luck.

She cast a fleeting glance to her surroundings, shuddering at the sight of all the boxes cluttering the living room and mentally tallied the hours of cleaning she'd have to do first before unpacking her belongings. Compared to living in her small apartment back in the city, the thought of tackling the two-story cottage on her own was daunting.

But first…

Sophie turned to the man who'd threatened to remove the two Species earlier, and froze when she recognized a face she'd seen numerous times on television.

Justice North, leader of the New Species Organization, was sitting in her cuddle chair positioned by the fireplace and staring back at her. Sophie noticed his hair had drastically changed since the last time she'd caught a glimpse of him on the news, his choice of clothing more casual in a t-shirt and jeans.

This, however, didn't lessen the weight of his imperial gaze.

"Are you certain you're feeling well?" Justice asked in a gentle tone. He glanced at the blue-eyed Species for a moment, before focusing on Sophie again. "Torrent informed me about the incident in your kitchen. Something involving a…pest?"

Sophie threw a startled a glance in the direction of the kitchen, curling her legs against her chest.

"It is no longer there," Justice hastened to reassured her, nodding his head to the blond Species. "When Torrent carried you to the living room after you lost consciousness, Wager over there removed the wolf spider humanely from your home."

Sophie pressed a trembling hand to her heart, tension easing from every muscle in her body at this bit of good news.

Wager winked at her, his cat-like eyes twinkling with mischief. "Yes, I _humanely_ hurled it as far away from this property as my arm could throw. I believe it may have even howled as I did so."

Sophie's lips twitched, amused by the feline's playful banter. The blond Species was handsome when he wasn't flashing his canines in anger.

"That is _not_ how you handle wildlife, Wager." Torrent scowled, clearly not sharing the sentiment. "They are living creatures, and should be treated with respect. As a Species, you should know better than that."

Wager's jovial mood disappeared as he glowered at his companion. "Do not lecture me as if I were a cub. The animal is back in the forest, safe and sound. That was only a jest to make the female smile, and I _obviously_ succeeded."

Justice sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose.

Laughter drew Sophie's gaze to a woman with long, brown hair sitting in the corner of the room. Similar to the NSO leader's casual clothing, she wore a white tank top with Capris, and a pair of black hiking boots. She had an athletic build with a tanned complexion, and even in a relaxed posture she appeared to be very tall. The woman observed the hostile exchange of the males from her perch on the ottoman with a grin, but upon sensing Sophie's gaze she turned.

Sophie jerked back, startled.

The woman's facial bone structure, although pronounced like the males in the room, was far more delicate in appearance—and yet even with her inexperience on the matter, she couldn't deny the woman was also a New Species.

 _Wow…_

Sophie had never seen a _female_ one before, and though she knew it was rude to gawk she couldn't stop herself from doing so.

The female, however, seemed not offended at all by her staring. In fact, she looked just as fascinated by Sophie's appearance. Her peculiar-shaped eyes appraised her without reservation, lingering over her disheveled strawberry blonde hair, before she grinned.

"Hello, little female. I am Creek."

Sophie liked the sound of her voice. It invited conversation, and had a husky undertone that she found pleasant to her ears. Unfortunately, the best she could offer the friendly Species was a timid wave of her hand.

Creek stared at the gesture, and then at her face with a puzzled frown. Turning to Wager and Torrent, she narrowed her eyes and a fierce expression took hold as she growled at them.

"Happy now? You have chased her voice away with your macho bullshit. Look at her, she is even too frightened to speak with _me_!"

The males cast remorseful eyes to the floor.

"I extend my deepest apologies," Justice rumbled, leaning forward as if preparing to stand. "I have been misinformed. We were not expecting a female to be living in this house alone, otherwise I would've considered my choice of company with more care. I thought by ordering the majority of my officers to wait outside and allow my two most sociable ones to remain, along with a female, it would ease your misgivings about our kind." Justice sighed and shook his head. "But this matter can wait until you are less… _unsettled_ by our presence. We will take our leave now, and I will be sure to have one of our human ambassadors return at a more convenient date."

Sophie fidgeted under the measure of his kind eyes, ashamed. Her continued silence was causing a grave misunderstanding, and without the help of her aid they would leave and think her no better than a spineless coward. She admitted their company had thrown her off-kilter, but she was curious as to the reason of their visit. Justice had said they were not expecting a _female_ to be living here, so did that mean Old Sal had been their intended host?

 _Well, only one way to find out._

Securing the blanket around her waist with a knot, Sophie zeroed in on her messenger bag resting over the coffee table nearest to the stairwell and rose stiffly from the couch. She wobbled momentarily, her head spinning from the sudden movement. Torrent rushed to assist her, but Sophie lifted her hand and shook her head.

The male halted mid-step, staring at her with a mixture of concern and bewilderment.

Sophie's smile was apologetic as she stepped around the male, conscious of the eyes that followed her across the room, and hobbled toward her intended goal with determination.

"I told you she needed to be taken to Medical," Torrent groused, his hands curling to fists as he rounded on Justice. "She injured her leg when she fell!"

Before Justice could form a reply, Sophie reached her bag and pulled out a dry erase board, along with a cloth and marker. The board measured 7x10, its size ideal when she carried it with her wherever she went, as she often needed it when conversation was required of her. She pulled the cap from the marker with her teeth, and as she limped back to the sofa with it between her lips, she scribbled onto the board without meeting their curious eyes. Once she sat on the sofa again, however, she flipped the board and faced it toward her audience.

 _Hello._

 _My name is Sophie Valentine, and I am mute._

 _It's a pleasure to meet you._

A stillness settled over the room for the space of a breath, but it was Wager who was the first to recover from the shock.

"You can't _speak_?" the blond Species exclaimed, incredulous, as if the very concept eluded him. "How—"

"Quiet," Creek interjected, scandalized. She skewered the male with a glare. "That is a rude question to ask someone you've just met, don't you think? Where are your manners?"

Spots of color appeared on Wager's cheeks, his embarrassed cough punctuating the awkward silence that followed the female's sudden outburst. The others seemed just as troubled by this unexpected turn of events as he was.

Wishing to dispel their unease, Sophie unfastened the first three buttons of her shirt and parted the fabric, tilting her head back to expose the noticeable scar at the base of her throat. It was a dull pink and shaped like a splatter of paint, the color a harsh contrast against her fair complexion.

As she anticipated, the Species quartet stared at the old injury in stunned silence. This was the usual reaction she evoked in strangers upon a first meeting, on the rare occasion they caught a glimpse of it. It was never a pleasant experience, despite her efforts to keep the scar hidden with her meticulous choice of clothing.

Still, Sophie refused to be discouraged.

In an attempt to exercise an air of normalcy, she forced a smile at Torrent and wrote:

 _I didn't hurt my leg when I fell, but I appreciate what you did for me in the kitchen._

 _Thank you_

"I _saw_ you limping!" Torrent rasped, blinking slowly as if rousing from a trance. "We _all_ did just now. Come with us, and we can have our doctors tend to you in Reservation—"

Sophie shook her head firmly, the thought of stepping foot inside a hospital making her stomach churn. She parted the blanket to bare her left leg to him, and used her finger to trace the long, thick scar curving over her knee which snaked partway down the length of her tibia. This one was a deeper shade of pink, the rough texture of the skin raised from her softer one. After allowing them a moment to observe it, she tucked her leg away and grabbed the board once more.

Sophie's face burned while she scribbled her next words, cursing her unsteady hand as she hastened to finish. If she wanted answers, damn it, she needed to be forthright. Once finished, Sophie directed her gaze to the NSO leader and lifted the board.

 _Why are you here, Mr. North?_

Justice narrowed his eyes. He leaned back his large frame against the cuddle chair, his posture relaxing, while he seemed to weigh the answer to Sophie's question with excruciating care.

Then, with an ominous expression crossing his face, the great feline delivered a warning.

* * *

 **Author's Note** **\- Oh man, writing this chapter took way longer than expected, but I think I'm off to a good start. And yes, I'm adding titles to my chapters now, thought I'd try something new. What did y'all think? Isn't Torrent just so cute being protective of Sophie? I can't wait for her to meet Arrow and let those sparks fly, muahahaha! Stay tuned for the next chapter, my lovelies. Hopefully chapter 2 will be posted faster than this one. *grovels to her muse***


	4. Chapter 2 - Red Mark

**Chapter 2**

 **RED MARK**

Arrow paced the length of the transporter cage as the vibrations of the vehicle beneath him began to slow, his rage mounting with each passing second he was forced to endure the drive. He had already been on edge while confined at Medical for the duration of his _supposed_ recovery, and he resented those who'd kept him there against his will for days. His spotted tail twitched, recalling the scent of the basement's sterilized air, but it paled in comparison to the stench of the fumes at present burning his nostrils.

A low growl rumbled from his throat.

"Settle down," a soft, familiar voice chided him. "We are almost there."

Arrow stopped and looked over his shoulder at the female sitting in the farthest corner of the cargo bed, her yellow eyes returning his gaze calmly. Domino was a feline Species like him, though her breeding far less evident than his own. He suspected the dual coloration of her long hair— black, with a streak of white— attested to the bloodline of the more domesticated of his feline brethren. She wore the signature black uniform of an NSO officer, but the single white band wrapped around her left arm still marked her as a trainee. Like him, she had known freedom for the turn of eight moons and yet his former cellmate appeared to have found her place among their kind without difficulty.

This did not surprise _him_.

Of the five test subjects he was reared with at Mercile, and then later transferred with to the Nicolai Research and Development facility, Domino—formerly known as 11—had always been the most tolerant among them, her patience seemingly infinite. Perhaps this was the reason she had been assigned as part of the escort for his relocation today, but the male suspected she had volunteered for the task to serve another purpose.

After all, Arrow had been avoiding the female for months in the hopes of sparing him unbidden thoughts of another who would never know freedom.

Because of him.

"I see 43's shadow still haunts you," Domino murmured, her expression wistful as she shifted her gaze to the woods. "She would've wanted you to honor her by moving forward. Instead, you carry her memory like a great burden over your shoulders and remain in the past."

Arrow bared his fangs. "Do not speak for the dead, female."

"Do not be a fool, _male_ ," she returned, directing her attention back to him. "You know better than anyone I speak only the truth. What happened in the testing facility was not your fault. Why can you not accept that?"

 _Because every night I see 43's blood staining my hands when I dream, and scent it in the air when I wake._

Arrow pressed his forehead between the bars of the cage, unable to hold the female's gaze. He did not wish to see pity in her eyes. "She died by _my_ hand, Domino. You were not there, but 619 was in the pit when it happened and witnessed it with her own eyes. It is why you are here, and she is not; she cannot bear the sight of her sibling's killer."

"619 has taken the name Andromeda," Domino said, and at hearing this he glanced back over his shoulder again. The female stood as the vehicle finally ground to a halt. "You would do well to remember it, Arrow. While you were in Medical, she took a post in the Wild Zone as the protector to one of its new borders. Part of her task will be assisting Leo and Valiant in keeping an eye on its residents as they adjust to their expanding home... and to one another."

Arrow pushed away from the cage, his tail lashing with anger. "The Wild Zone is too dangerous—"

"Do not underestimate her," Domino interjected with a soft growl. "Andromeda is a formidable canine. The wolf inside her is a fierce creature, and any male foolish enough to cross her deserves the punishment he gets."

With that threat delivered, Domino jumped out of the cargo bed just as three other vehicles arrived and stationed themselves roughly forty paces away. It didn't escape Arrow's notice they had positioned them in a manner that blocked the inconspicuous dirt path leading back to the more populated area of Reservation. He snorted. As if he'd go back to that place by choice.

Humans lived there among his kind, and that alone was reason enough to avoid it.

Arrow glowered when the drivers exited their vehicles. He counted eleven male officers as they spread out into formation, all of them canine, but he was surprised when moments later a twelfth male emerged from the woods to join them. He wore a black uniform like the others, yet there was no mistaking the silver coloration of his mane.

It was the last image Arrow remembered, before the bear known as Shield knocked him unconscious upon their first meeting and he awoke in Medical two days later with a pounding headache and a damaged tail. As the wind carried his attacker's unusual scent toward his cage, a haze of red clouded his vision. The predator inside him longed to sink its claws into the bear's flesh and draw blood as retribution for humiliating him.

"Behave," Domino whispered from the ground, tossing him an exasperated look. "He is here to make certain you do not injure the other males. Please, do not challenge him."

Arrow ignored the female's request. He stalked to the perimeter of the cage and sized Shield up with a sweep of his gaze, taking in the male's surmountable bulk. He estimated him to be about twenty pounds heavier, all of it muscle, though they appeared to share almost the same height and frame structure. Unlike Arrow's tawny complexion, the bear's skin was a darker shade that reminded him of wood when saturated by rain. It differed from the lighter pigmentation of the glaring scar on his face, which trailed from the bridge of his nose and disappeared beneath the collar of his black clothing.

A poignant silence descended over the Species gathered at the edge of the forest as the two males regarded one another with obvious disapproval, yet it was the bear who broke the uncomfortable silence first.

"Do not cross into my territory again, feline, or next time I will twist your neck to match the crook on your tail."

Arrow snarled, slamming his shoulder against the bars of his cage. "Open this door, and we will see."

The bear crossed his arms over his chest, amber eyes narrowed to slits. "I promised my mate I would spare your life, so do not provoke me. She has not forgotten what you did for her in the testing facility, and _that_ is the only reason why you stand there breathing today."

His mate.

Arrow stilled, tilting his head back to sniff the air again. The trace of the female's scent clung to Shield's skin and clothing, a familiar one he'd come across the night he was rescued by the NSO. Only, it wasn't exactly how he remembered it. This one was more…exotic. A new breed, if the rumors were true. He recalled her name was Paige, the small human that had surprisingly reminded him of 43 when Dougal, a Mercile soldier, had first thrown her into the cage next to his as a potential prize for his fighting games.

She was the first—no, the _only_ — human he hadn't despised at first sight.

Now, she was a New Species like him.

 _And a mother_ , a small voice whispered inside Arrow's mind. His nose flared as the faint trace of warm milk reached him, the scent of a newborn offspring obvious even to an unmated male like himself. In that moment, he understood Shield's anger toward him was not because he had crossed the male's land at all, but that his fighting had potentially endangered his mate and cub.

The realization was a sobering one.

"Release me," Arrow demanded, pushing away from the cage. He took a calming breath to tamper his anger and leveled his gaze with the bear's. "I will not seek retribution."

"And you will not cross into my territory again," Shield reiterated, his command unwavering. "Is that understood?"

Arrow curled his hands into fists, but he held his temper in check and offered him a curt nod.

Shield held his gaze as if weighing the sincerity in his answer, and seemingly appeased with what he saw he then turned to one of the canines closest to him. "Release him, Moon."

A male with shoulder-length brown hair tilted his head, a dubious expression crossing his face. "You're going to keep your shit together if I do, right?"

"Paige promised me a reward if I behaved." Shield's grin was unrepentant. "And I intend to collect it when my shift ends."

Moon chuckled, shaking his head as he withdrew a small object from his pocket and pointed it toward Arrow's cage. The feline tensed when a whirring mechanical sound hummed and beeped, followed by a resounding click. Then, the door to his enclosure sprung open.

Arrow didn't hesitate.

He leapt out, landing in a crouch on the ground. The canines shifted nervously without the bars to separate them, but he dismissed their presence.

As it had become his habitual gesture since obtaining freedom, the feline kneaded the earth with his claws and relished the texture beneath his calloused fingertips. He closed his eyes and savored the warmth of the sun on his naked back, the chill of the morning air, while his keen senses adjusted to the forest around him. After living an endless torment inside a cage, deprived of light and color, the outdoors still overwhelmed him if he took in too much at once.

Perhaps he would never adjust to the splendor of this habitat, and he found this thought somehow reassuring.

Arrow opened his eyes when Domino rounded the truck to approach him, but she stopped at a respectable distance and knelt on the floor to present him with a sheet of… _paper_? He frowned, perplexed by the offering as he studied it. A combination of squares and circles, along with black dots interspersed over lines scribbled against a green background, covered every inch of the space.

"Humans call this a _map_ ," Domino explained to him. "It is a representation of the Wild Zone rendered in basic shapes and colors to facilitate distinct sectors in this habitat. Understand?"

Arrow nodded.

Domino pointed to a large, green square with a blue shape in its center located on the upper left corner of the map. "This territory will be yours from now on. As you can see, it is one of the most isolated sectors in the Wild Zone and far enough from the other residents to prevent another incident from happening again. The dotted lines represent the borders of your land." She pressed her finger over the blue shape. "This here is a small body of water called a lake. There is a dwelling there the NSO restored when the additional territory was acquired, and it is filled with supplies and standard accommodations for you. Whether you live in it or not, the decision is yours."

Intrigued, Arrow studied the shape of his territory with avid curiosity. Compared to the previous one he was forced to cohabit with other residents, this new territory seemed to be quite spacious. But when he noticed a bold, red line slashed diagonally across the farthest edge of what should be a continuation of his land, he frowned.

"Why is that red mark there?"

"It is the perimeter of the Wild Zone, and where your territory ends." Domino left the map on the floor and rose to her feet, her gaze averted while she brushed the dirt from her clothing. "You are forbidden by Species Law from crossing this boundary, Arrow, and a patrol was assigned by Justice to make certain you remain within your borders. Until the walls are extended to secure our home, you must abide by this rule or the Council will punish you."

Arrow's tail swept the ground in a furious gesture, displeased by this exercise in control from the appointed leader of his people. He had met the feline called Justice only once in Medical—and found him lacking. Arrow could easily win against him in a fight for dominance, though he suspected his followers would frown upon the act if he challenged him. His green eyes glittered with contempt as they raked over the males bracing for his reaction to the news, until they settled once more over the red mark.

The beast inside him snarled, incensed.

Only the ruler of his domain could set the boundaries to his own territory, and he would fight until his last breath to make it so.

To hell with their consequences.

"Arrow—?"

" _Leave_."

Domino frowned at his command, but perhaps sensing his patience waning she didn't pursue the matter further. Instead, she said, "Supplies will be delivered to this location thirty days from now. I will be the one making the drop, so make certain you are here early in the day to receive them. Until then, stay out of trouble."

Arrow growled.

The female's impertinent lips quirked, before she ambled back to the vehicle and climbed inside the cargo bed. Arrow remained in his crouched position as the driver maneuvered the thing around him to exit the small clearing, stirring up a cloud of dust as it did so, just as the other males began to break their formation and depart as well. The last to remain was Shield, who stood at the edge of the forest like a sentry, and held his unwavering gaze toward Arrow's.

"I was like you once," the bear said.

Arrow waited for him to elaborate on the meaning of his words, but instead Shield cast one last thoughtful look at him and then he disappeared into the forest. The feline's posture remained on alert until the bear's gleaming, silver mane was no longer visible, the path he had chosen leading him back to Reservation, and only then did he allow himself to relax and rise to his feet.

 _Strange male._

Swiping the map from the floor, Arrow gave it another perfunctory glance as he turned toward his new habitat. The scent of the uncharted territory called to him, fueling an instinctual need to claim it as his own. He tucked the map into the back pocket of his leg coverings, a surge of adrenaline coursing through his veins at the prospect of spending hours exploring the depths of the forest.

At last, he was _home._

* * *

"Sorry, lady. I got that spot filled just yesterday." The owner of the diner took the employment application, and without sparing it a glance he tossed the paper carelessly into a drawer as he regarded Sophie with an air of impatience. He was a squat man, with a mean face like a bulldog's and a balding head glistening with sweat. He was also, unfortunately, quite loud. "I'll keep you in mind, though, if I need another waitress down the road."

Sophie doubted that.

Resisting the urge to glance back at the obvious _Help Wanted_ sign hanging from one of the establishment's windows, she responded to the man's empty promise with a polite smile. Shoving the dry-erase board back into her messenger bag, Sophie squared her shoulders and turned to leave before she attracted further attention from the patrons gawking at the scene taking place at the register.

 _That's right, folks_ , she thought, grumpily. _Food and a show, compliments of the house._

Sophie caught the sympathetic look of one of the waitresses watching her leave, before the older woman shook her head and grumbled under her breath.

The waitress knew, just like Sophie did, that her boss was a big, fat liar.

According to the flower shop owner next door, a nice old woman in her sixties who happened to be a regular at the diner and a big gossip, the sign had been adorning that window for over a month after the previous waitress quit in the middle of her shift. It was clear to Sophie, as she made her way toward the exit, that the place was understaffed. It wasn't the harassed waitresses flitting about during the midday rush hour which attested to this simple observation, but the disgruntled faces of the people awaiting their meal and growing rather impatient with the slow service.

Yet with just one look at the uneven manner of her gait, along with her 'special' method of communication, the owner had dismissed Sophie's credibility without hesitation.

Apparently, she wasn't even good enough to wash his dishes!

Brushing the rejection from her mind, Sophie stepped out of the diner and felt the tension ebb from her shoulders when the stench of grease disappeared. Perhaps it was fortunate the man found her inadequate, she thought, taking in a breath of fresh air as she wandered down the sidewalk; the smell of that terrible place would've made her vomit, anyway.

And if there was one thing Prospero Salvatore had taught Sophie to appreciate over the years, other than the importance of Jazz music to feed an artist's soul, it was the quality of good food. Her old friend had, after all, owned the best traditional Italian restaurant in New Jersey.

Her stomach chose that very moment to growl, demanding sustenance after trekking for hours through Whispering Grove's little downtown area in search of employment. The weekend commuters meandered along the sidewalk in every direction, but Sophie did her best to keep out of their way while she scanned each brick building across the street until she found the one with black and white striped awnings. The café had caught her eye the first time she'd seen it earlier in the day, but the hours written on the window had informed her it opened at noon on Saturdays. As she crossed the road toward it, drawn immediately by its unique vintage décor, she took in every detail with an appreciative gaze.

Six French bistro tables, each adorned with a black cloth, a candle lantern centerpiece, and a white parasol had been arranged along the spacious sidewalk. The wooden sign hanging from a bracket over the entrance read: _Bad Luke Café_. At first Sophie thought she'd misread the name, but a closer look at the scrawled font as she paused beneath it confirmed she hadn't. Above the writing was the design of a cat silhouette, with an arched back and bristled tail pose that reminded her of a classic Halloween decoration.

Movement beyond the café's window caught Sophie's eye, and she turned in time to see a woman in the far back rushing to set up the tables. A quick glance at her wristwatch told her the place would open for business in a few minutes, so she limped toward one of the tables to wait. The moment she sat on the chair, she stiffened as pain shot from her injured knee down to her toes. Before leaving her home, Sophie had found the most comfortable pair of ankle boots she owned to go with the denim jacket and cream lace dress she'd chosen for the day's ventures. The length of the dress covered the scar on her leg, and the beaded chokers she'd arranged intricately around her neck concealed the mangled one over her throat.

Still, perhaps sneakers would've been a more sensible choice of footwear.

Evaluating the level of discomfort to a 6 on her Pain Scale, Sophie decided it was time to call it a day and return home after a quick meal. The thought frustrated her. She really needed to secure a job sooner rather than later— this was not only after assessing the amount of repairs her home needed, but the current state of her depleting savings account— and so far, all she had accomplished today was filling out a plethora of applications that had likely been discarded the moment she left each store.

Sophie took out a red pen and her sketchbook from her messenger bag, flipping it open until she found the newspaper clipping pressed between its pages. She spread the sheet over the table and perused the job listings until she found the name of the diner she'd just left, and with a weary sigh she drew a red mark through it to match the other failures.

"Good riddance to that place, honeybunch," a voice said over her shoulder. " _Trust_ me."

Sophie jumped, startled by the sudden presence of someone rounding her chair from behind, only to realize it was the same woman she'd seen beyond the window inside the café. She was older than Sophie, though she couldn't begin to guess by how much just by her appearance alone. Her box braids were pulled back into a low chignon, revealing a stunning face with high cheekbones and a wide nose. Her skin was dark, an exquisite cool shade of raw umber Sophie had the sudden impulse to capture on paper. She had brown eyes, and plump, smiling lips painted a cherry red that matched the color of her stud earrings and Mary Jane heels. These accents didn't correlate with the café's neutral setting, but the contrast was most certainly alluring. The uniform itself was a white button-down shirt, which the woman had left open at the collar to expose her long, slender neck she'd adorned with a delicate string of pearls. Black stockings covered her shapely legs, and the monochrome-striped pencil skirt, which hugged her generous hips, completed the ensemble.

Perhaps mistaking Sophie's continued silence for scandalized shock, the woman rested a hand over her hip and nodded pointedly in the direction of the diner. "The last waitress there was a regular of mine, and she up and quit because that greasy old toad's got wanderin' hands, if you catch my meaning."

Sophie's nose scrunched up with disgust.

" _Mm-hmm_ , you got that right, sugar," the woman said, fluttering her hand about to gesture between them. "My momma, bless her heart, always taught me us girls gotta stick together. It's a big, bad world out there, but a little attitude and the right pair of heels can go a long way. So how 'bout you turn that frown upside down for me, yeah?"

Charmed by the woman's forward approach, and the lilt of her southern accent, Sophie couldn't help but grin. She had a charismatic persona that was too disarming to resist, and without forethought to her actions she extended a hand in greeting—only to realize too late she would be unable to offer her name out loud. But rather than take the offered hand, the woman leaned down and wrapped Sophie in an enthusiastic hug. The scent of jasmine mixed with freshly ground coffee reached her nostrils as she sucked in a breath in utter surprise, before the woman pulled back and said, "The name's Olivia Chant. Friends call me Liv, though." Her eyes twinkled with mischief. " _You'll_ be calling me Liv from now on, honeybunch, and I won't be takin' no for an answer, ya hear?"

 _Okay._

Liv's brow furrowed as her eyes focused on Sophie's muted reply, but after a moment of silence they rounded in understanding. "I reckon, for once, that nosy florist was right when I stopped by her store this morning and heard her yappin' about a new girl in town who can't speak." Her voice gentled to a murmur. "Is that you, darlin'?"

In answer, Sophie took the whiteboard from her bag and felt her face heat as she scribbled on its surface while the woman took a seat at her table and watched. Forcing her gaze to hers, she presented her message with a hesitant smile.

 _Hello, Liv. I'm Sophie._

Liv grinned. "Well, heya there, Sophie girl. Welcome to Whispering Grove." She pointed her thumb at the café. "That right there's the best coffee house in this town, and don't let any fool tell you otherwise. You ever need anything, sugar, even if it's just to shoot the breeze, my apartment is right above it. The door's on the side of the building."

Sophie looked over her shoulder toward the windows above the café, noticing its white trim curtains and the flower boxes beneath their frame filled with white daisies. Just as she was about to shift her gaze back to Liv, a tuxedo cat jumped on the sill and fixed its yellow eyes on her. Sophie smiled. Somehow, it didn't surprise her Liv owned a pet with black and white coloring to match the décor around it.

" _Ooohh_ , sistah, you are in for a treat today," Liv said, her voice lowered to a conspiratorial whisper. "There is one _fine_ , tall order of hot mocha goodness headin' this way, and he's got his eyes locked on _you_."

Sophie tore her eyes from the cat to Liv, who in turn had her attention fixed in the direction of the road. She followed the other woman's gaze to the hulking figure of a man in uniform stepping out of an off-road cruiser with the words POLICE stamped over the door. He rounded the vehicle and strode toward them, his aviator sunglasses reflecting his intended target that, even from a distance, Sophie could tell was her.

 _Uh-oh…_

Liv crossed her legs, hiking the hem of her skirt a few inches in the process, and leaned back against the chair to greet the officer with a coy smile. "Well howdy-do, Deputy Sheriff. Back for those éclairs again, I see."

Sophie's hunched her shoulders, feeling a nervous prickle over her skin as the man halted a few paces from their table. And although he acknowledged Liv's greeting with a subtle lift of his chin, Sophie noticed his attention never wavered from her direction.

 _Seriously, what the heck?_

"Need a private word with Miss Valentine, Liv."

Sophie blinked at the low rumble of his command. Even more disconcerting, however, was the fact that he knew her last name but to her knowledge she'd never seen him before.

Liv pursed her lips at the officer's dismissal, but the sound of a chime drew the woman's attention to the entrance of the café, as an old couple waved in her direction and entered the building. Rising to her feet, Liv squeezed Sophie's shoulder, and Sophie wondered if the gesture was meant to be reassuring or sympathetic to her plight.

She hoped it was the former.

"I've gotta tend to those folks, Sophie girl, but I'll be back with a menu in two shakes." Liv swiveled her gaze to the officer. "As always, a pleasure, handsome. Do stop by for those éclairs before you leave, though. Got a fresh batch in the oven, and I know that granddaddy of yours likes them almost as much as you do."

With that settled, Olivia Chant winked and then sauntered away, leaving Sophie little choice but to return her attention back to the officer. It was only when Liv disappeared inside the store, that the man closed the remaining distance between them in two long strides and rested a hand at her table. Like a rising wave, he towered over her as he bent at the waist to level his face with hers, and in the softest whisper he asked a question that stole what little breath she had left.

"What's your connection to Prospero Salvatore?"

* * *

 **Author's Note:** **Sorry for the delay, my lovelies. Leave your thoughts behind, though, and I may be motivated to write faster *snickers* - I'm kidding. I'll do my best to post faster, or die tryiiinnnng! _ 3**


	5. Chapter 3 - Chase

**Chapter 3**

 **CHASE**

 _Do not allow society to define you by the circumstances of a past you cannot change, condemning your life forever as an outcast. Your silence is not a weakness, tesoro mio. If the world is determined to see you as a quiet mouse, then it is your duty to show them there is a fierce tigress lurking within._

A _petrified_ mouse, however, seemed more of an accurate depiction of Sophie's character as she shrank away from the Sheriff Deputy's imposing form and a sense of panic began to take hold. The man was too big— too _close_ — for comfort, and despite those last words of encouragement Old Sal imparted on her before his death, at present her 'fierce tigress' was no more formidable than a helpless kitten.

It recognized the true predator when it saw one.

"I don't make a habit of repeating myself, Miss Valentine," the officer drawled, his voice so deep it seemed to reverberate within her chest. "No way in hell that old man would leave his house to anyone but blood, and since he had none left in this goddamn world"—his voice lowered, a sharp edge of warning in his tone. "I'll ask you again: what is your _connection_ to Prospero Salvatore?"

 _Wait—what?!_

Sophie shuddered, alarmed by his words. Her hand itched to reach out for her board to answer him but she hesitated, uncertain if the sudden movement would be considered a threat in his eyes. If he would only step back and allow her a moment to compose herself, she could make sense of the hostile man standing before her. Seeming impatient with her prolonged silence, however, the man scowled and lifted his hand to remove his mirrored sunglasses.

The moment he did so, Sophie's thoughts scattered like leaves caught in a whirlwind as a pair of hazel eyes returned her gaze with suspicion.

The striking coloration surprised her, for she had expected someone with his dark complexion to have brown ones like Liv. Yet while their presence attested to his mixed race, they did nothing to detract from the sheer beauty of his dominant African-American heritage.

The man was well over six feet, a foot and a half taller than Sophie's five foot three, and she noticed from the beginning he had walked with the confident manner of a person at ease with every single inch of his frame. His long legs and muscled thighs, clad in dark olive pants, seemed not only honed to carry the weight of his surmountable bulk, but designed for maximum speed. His khaki shirt stretched over the expanse of a wide chest, framed by immensely broad shoulders that angled down to a narrow waist where the gun strapped to his belt was clearly visible. The short sleeves of his uniform revealed impressive forearms, and as he leaned his weight further onto the table Sophie caught the barest glimpse of a tattoo over the bulge of his left bicep. The edge of the sleeve nearly covered the design, but from what little she could discern of it appeared to be some type of animal.

Peering up at his face, Sophie couldn't deny the officer was indeed quite handsome. His black hair was cropped short to his scalp, drawing attention to the definition of his skull and facial bone structure. High, cut cheekbones and a stubbled jaw framed his wide nose and a set of full lips that, when her attention narrowed on their attractive shape, the corner of his mouth twitched as though he were attempting to suppress a smile.

"A man might get the wrong idea, you keep starin' at him like that, dollface," he whispered in a gruff tone.

Stunned by his words, Sophie lifted her gaze to his as a trail of heat scorched a path from her neck to her face in utter embarrassment. He'd caught her staring at his lips! Mortified, she attempted to look away but his fingers grasped her chin gently before she could, impeding the movement. His hazel eyes, which had been assessing her thus far with an equal measure of suspicion and guarded curiosity, appeared to soften at her obvious discomfort.

"Not goin' to lie, the way you look he'd be stupid not to act on it."

 _Uh…what?_

The sound of the café's chime, however, saved Sophie from further shock when seconds later Liv's voice called out, "You better not be harrasin' my gal there, Chase Coulter, or I swear on my mama's grave I'll call your grandaddy—and don't you think I won't!"

At this somewhat nonsensical threat, the man—Officer Coulter _—_ chuckled and removed his hand from Sophie's chin, straightening to his full height as the click of heels approached them. Sophie jumped when seconds later a menu was slammed over the table to her right, and then Liv was suddenly there rounding her chair to wedge her body between them. With her back to Sophie, Liv forced the officer to retreat a few paces as she jabbed her finger to his chest as though she were her classy, self-appointed bodyguard.

"I mean it, buck," she huffed. "Where I come from, that ain't no way to get acquainted with a lady and if your grandaddy were standing right here he'd give you what for."

Fascinated, Sophie watched as Officer Coulter lifted his hands up in a show of mock surrender. The comical act of this hulking man relenting to a woman half his size, not only attracted the attention of anyone who happened to be passing by the café, but his behavior seemed rather endearing in an odd sort of way. Looking past Liv to focus on Sophie, the officer further solidified this observation by flashing her a grin.

"Best coffeehouse in town, dollface. Whatever you're gettin', it's on me."

Liv planted her hands on her hips and announced, "Well that's just too bad, handsome, since _I'm_ treating her to the Chant Special and her lunch today is on _the house."_

At this declaration, Officer Coulter glowered down at her, all traces of humor gone. "On my _tab_ , Liv."

"On the _house_ , Colt," she retorted, clearly unperturbed by the big man's glower. "You can huff n' puff all you want, but that ain't gonna change a thing and you know it."

Sophie shifted nervously as his unhappy expression became even more displeased by this answer, and at this juncture she wondered if it wouldn't be wise to scurry on home while they were both preoccupied with their argument. Unfortunately, the pain radiating from her leg had only mildly subsided, the level gone down from a 6 to a 4, and she wasn't strong enough to stand on her own yet.

 _Shoot!_

"We done here, Officer Friendly?" Liv asked, cocking her hip to the side. "Got a business to run."

" _Christ_ , woman, that mouth a' yours could test the patience of a saint," Officer Coulter muttered, lifting his exasperated face to the heavens as he, too, planted his fists to his waist. After taking a calming breath, he looked past Liv to pin his attention on Sophie. "I'm on duty. Don't get off 'til midnight, but you and I are going to finish this conversation, dollface, so you best believe I'll come lookin' for you sooner rather than later. We clear on that?"

"What conversation?" Liv interjected, understandably confused. She turned her head to stare pointedly at Sophie's board, the message she'd scribbled on it upon their first meeting still on its surface, and then her head swiveled back to the officer. "You a mind reader now or somethin'?"

Sophie pressed her lips together to suppress the unbidden smile.

"What I am is getting ticked off, you keep pokin' your nose where it don't belong, Liv" he groused at her, his chest expanding with a breath of utter frustration. Then, in a less abrasive voice he turned to Sophie and repeated, "We clear?"

 _Um, heck no,_ Sophie thought immediately, resisting the impulse to reach for her board to tell him so. Nothing about their interaction thus far had seemed safe or normal, regardless of his apparent familiarity with Old Sal's history here in Whispering Grove. For her own protection, it was imperative she remain anonymous in this small town— _especially_ in the presence of the law.

And after the NSO paid her a visit less than a week ago, placing her most definitely _on_ the radar, she was determined to make this happen no matter what. She had a right to remain silent, damn it, and by god she would do so. To her dismay, however, the officer seemed to read that rebellious thought on her face. His eyes narrowed, but instead of a glower he flashed her a knowing grin.

"Folks 'round here know me as Colt."

Sophie hesitated, uncertain how to respond to that bit of information, so she settled with a curt nod.

"You call me Chase."

With that somewhat bizarre command, the officer shaded his eyes once more with his sunglasses, jerked his chin up at her, tossed another grimace at Liv, and then sauntered away back to his cruiser.

Liv shook her head and _tsked,_ turning to Sophie with her brow arched. "Honeybunch, that buck's lucky he's as good to look at comin' as he is goin', otherwise I'd box those fool ears of his."

Sophie didn't know why she did it, but her attention turned from Liv to the hulking man's retreating back, zeroing in on his firm derrière before she lost sight of it as he rounded his cruiser. And as her luck would have it, he paused mid-step as if sensing her gaze and twisted his head to lock his eyes with hers.

Sophie's face flushed.

 _Crap._

Deputy Sheriff ' _Call Me Chase_ ' Coulter flashed her another devilish grin, this one slow and not a little cocky, and then he hopped into the cruiser and finally drove away.

 _Well._

Returning her gaze back to Liv, whose head was shaking even as her lips tilted up into a half grin and her eyes dropped to level with Sophie's, she remarked, "His daddy didn't name that boy Chase for nothin', sugar. It's why he's really good at doin' what he does for a living. Way I see it, he's got a lock on your scent and if he says he'll come lookin' for you, you better be ready for him because he will. He's a Coulter, and Coulter men keep their promises."

Sophie's mouth went dry.

 _Oh…double crap._

* * *

It had taken Arrow many hours to patrol the perimeters of his territory upon his release that morning, but with every tree trunk he marked with his scent as he learned the lay of his land it filled him with a sense of elation. Securing his borders solidified his place in a world that was still very new and strange to him. The deeper into the forest he explored, the more attuned he became to his instincts as if the very act of claiming the fertile landscape were awakening something more primal inside him.

The beast was content.

He had come across animals native to the wooded habitat as he wandered about, their presence there a curiosity he was still growing accustomed to. The Mercile scientists assigned to the failures in his sector had often conducted experiments between their test subjects and other living organisms—feral dogs, wild boars, livestock— forcing the two within a confined space to study their behavior.

More often than not, such encounters ended in bloodshed.

As a dominant predator, Arrow did not tolerate the presence of others within his domain. The impulse to slake his bloodlust was always there, lingering in the corner of his mind like an ever-present shadow. Of all the experiments he endured at Mercile, his compulsion to seek violence had been their most successful one. New Species were aggressive by nature, but as a cub he had been selected for his innate proficiency as a hunter to test the boundaries of his breed. He was ruthless. Focused. Capable of systematic assault patterns during routine seek and destroy training exercises, with little remorse for the prey eventually caught during the chase. But in order to tap into those abilities, the scientists conditioned Arrow over the years to be triggered by the scent of blood and fear. Such that, as he grew from a cub to an adult male, the combination became almost as enticing to him as that of a female in heat.

 _Almost._

The very notion made him restless.

Seeking a path which would lead him to the heart of his territory and the location of his new lair, Arrow's cat-eyes adjusted to the waning light as the sun began to set. A subtle breeze carried the scent of rain in the air, and the feline sensed it wouldn't be long before the brewing storm would be upon them. Even now, his acute hearing could pick up the distant rumble of thunder. But for the moment, he turned his face upward and admired the array of pinks and purples coloring the heavens. Of everything he had experienced thus far as a free male, twilight was a time of day he found most pleasing. It not only heralded the beginning of nightfall, the ideal hour for a hunt, but once the sky turned pitch black he would often gaze upon a starlit panorama until he fell asleep. With his superior night vision, he could appreciate in great detail such a magnificent exhibition of nature and he was fairly certain nothing could compare to its beauty.

Nothing, of course…

Except 43.

Raw pain sliced within Arrow's chest at the unbidden thought, forcing the male to stagger and lean his shoulder against a tree trunk for support until the discomfort passed. He closed his eyes and took in deep breaths, allowing the myriad scents of the forest to soothe him.

 _Not again,_ he thought. _Please, not again._

Yet Arrow knew the moment exhaustion claimed him, terrible dreams would plague his mind tonight. Overtime, following his release from captivity, the nightmares had lessened to a degree. In the beginning, they had tormented him for continuous nights without repose until the very thought of sleeping made him irritable. Now, the pattern had changed to once or twice a week— but even then, this would disrupt whatever semblance of peace he had managed to attain.

It made him feel caged.

Smothered.

 _I see 43's shadow still haunts you._

Arrow shook his head on a snarl, as if the very act could cast away Domino's voice from his head. Like an unrelenting fly, her words had pestered his conscience for the remainder of the day. He opened his eyes and glared at the forest floor, his chest heaving as he struggled for control.

 _She would've wanted you to honor her by moving forward._

"Enough," Arrow growled, pressing the palms of his hands over his ears to block her out. His vision blurred with unshed tears but he blinked the moisture back, refusing to allow a single drop to shed.

… _honor her…_

" _ENOUGH!"_

Throwing his head back, Arrow let out a savage roar as the sound of thunder echoed with equal force from above. Dark clouds rolled across the sky, mirroring the violent churn of emotions battling for dominance inside him like two beasts determined to fight one another to the death. Without forethought to his actions, he cast a brief glance to his surroundings and dashed to his left, northbound. Lightning flashed across the sky, illuminating the forest in a blaze of white. A powerful gust of wind tore the leaves from its branches, forcing even the tall redwood sentries of his habitat to sway against their will. Arrow pumped his legs harder, gaining more speed as he ran through the woods for some time and with no set destination in mind. He dodged every obstacle in his way, the electric charge in the atmosphere sharpening his gaze and spurring him forward, the distance between himself and his lair growing wider with each frantic step he took.

The male just needed to escape, to outrun the voice inside his head and the weight of his guilt cutting him to pieces from the inside.

 _Honor her._

43's smiling face burst before Arrow's eyes, her blue gaze filled with affection and mirth. A dark, unruly mane framed her delicate features, and as the image faded he swore he could almost catch her scent in the air.

Wait.

He _could_ smell it.

Or at least, something _similar_ to it.

Skidding to a halt, Arrow's heart leapt when he tilted his head back and sniffed, ignoring the cool rain as it began to soak his skin and leg coverings. There _was_ something unique drifting through the air. It was faint, yes, but not impossible to track with his keen nose. Although Arrow wasn't a canine Species, as one of the test failures he was more attuned to his animal side than human his human counterpart. As he had often been told by one of his caretakers, his blood was not tainted by the inadequacies of man. Therefore, his senses were far more enhanced than Mercile's more "successful" experiments and he could outclass even the most formidable canine tracker of the NSO.

As the male scanned the trees and the formation of the terrain in search of the scent again, he realized this section of the forest was unfamiliar to him. Even with the sudden downpour, he should've been able to detect some of the markings he had made earlier during his patrol. Arrow had even used his claws to score the base of the trees, creating visible markers to ward off others from his domain. Swiping strands of his mane plastered to his forehead, he sniffed the air again and walked in a full circle to pinpoint his location until he managed to pick up the strange scent drifting from the north. Arrow paused, taking a moment to conjure the map of his territory in his mind, for he had studied every detail of its design and his ability to retain information had never faltered him before.

Then, it dawned on him.

Without meaning to, the path Arrow had chosen in haste somehow led him beyond his borders and into the forbidden zone. The revelation surprised him. Domino assured him Andromeda had taken a post in this sector to keep males like him from crossing beyond NSO lands. Arrow scanned the area, searching for signs of the female in question but even with his sharp vision the rain impeded him from seeing farther than twenty paces.

 _She must have taken shelter somewhere to escape the storm,_ he concluded.

Unlike his feline brethren, Arrow had an unusual affinity to water. It was rooted deep in his Jaguar DNA, making him not only an expert swimmer but the least bothered by rain.

Curiosity, however, was another matter.

Something was calling to him in the forbidden zone, and he couldn't resist its summons.

Ignoring the threat of punishment from the Council, Arrow took one last cursory glance around him and then continued north. He took each step with great care, pressing his weight onto the damp earth as mud seeped between his toes and the sound of pelting rain drowned out all the turbulent thoughts from his mind.

All, but one.

The scent.

He needed to locate its source.

Arrow felt the terrain dip as something caught his attention in the far distance. The trees were thicker in that direction, but he was almost certain a small light had flickered in the darkness. He contemplated climbing a tree to ease his search, but discarded that recourse and remained on the ground. The male jumped over a mossy stump, nearly losing his footing in his haste to find that light again. Shifting his gaze across the wooded labyrinth as he walked, they paused on what appeared to be the suggestion of a path on the ground. He almost missed the subtle formation, for a blanket of grass had grown upon it and the dense wall of a thicket dissuaded anyone from moving forward.

But Arrow was a persistent hunter.

Pushing into the unforgiving barrier with his powerful frame, he felt the pinprick of its branches score his flesh and snag his mane as he forced his way through. With his eyes closed to protect them from harm, he didn't see the terrain drop sharply until he lost his footing and tumbled down a slippery hill. Instinctively, he clawed the earth and found purchase on the root of a tree as his back slammed against damp earth and rock. Arrow blinked, stunned. His quick thinking pinned him in place, saving him from the fall, but this did nothing to settle his racing heart. Though, as his toes brushed the forest floor, he realized in disbelief that he'd almost fallen into a small trench and not certain death at all.

Letting go of the root, he dropped to the ground on a crouch. His tail lashed in agitation, the crooked tip bristling as he sucked in a calming breath—and froze.

The scent was there again, only stronger.

Lifting his gaze, Arrow's breath caught when he saw it. If not for the faint light glowing beyond the window, he might have missed the wooden dwelling concealed amidst the undergrowth and towering trees of a habitat that should've belonged to _him_. He rose to his feet as though in a trance, swiping away more water from his face while he hesitated only a moment before closing the forty-meter distance to the intrusive structure.

 _So this is why this part of the forest was forbidden to me,_ Arrow thought with disdain, his nose flaring as the scent he'd been tracking intensified when he cleared the forest and stood before the dwelling. Compared to his lair, this one was bigger in size but appeared to be somewhat unkempt from what little he could discern in the darkness. He suspected Domino had withheld the knowledge of it under direct orders from Justice, and the thought incensed him.

He was not accustomed to being deceived by his own kind.

The male looked up, narrowing his gaze at the only lit window. The light appeared muted, just barely visible by a cloth covering the glass, but there was no mistaking the fact that the place was occupied by... _someone_.

 _An intruder,_ his beast whispered, almost gleeful. _We must kill it, tear the flesh from its bones._

This thought held merit.

And yet another, more uncertain one made him take those last steps to the dwelling: who did that scent belong to?

The male climbed a set of floorboards until the structure's roofing sheltered him from the rain, and he stopped before a closed door. He glanced at the window beside it, but this one also had a cloth obscuring the interior from view. Unlike the one above, however, this one didn't have a light glowing from within.

No matter.

Complete darkness suited his purpose just fine.

Ignoring the threat of punishment, Arrow made his decision. The male waited until he heard a clap of thunder, taking advantage of the booming sound to mask his movement as he placed his hand over the center of the door and pressed his weight against the wooden surface until the lock broke. He tensed, listening for any sounds of distress from within, but after a moment of silence he relaxed his shoulders and eased the door open.

The second he did, what permeated from inside struck him like a bolt of lightning to his core, and he nearly stumbled back in shock. That delicious scent, which he had chased and trespassed into forbidden territory for, belonged to a female.

A _human_ female.

And she was in heat.

* * *

 **Author's Note** : **Not gonna lie, my lovelies. I had a hard time stopping the chapter here, so I can only imagine how y'all are feeling right about now. Take heart, cuz at least I can guarantee CH 4 is going to be off the charts awesome ;) Please tell me what you think of CH 3, though. How about that officer, eh? Something interesting to look forward to, am I right? *WINK,WINK* ~ Stay awesome, readers! 3**


	6. Chapter 4 - A Foregone Conclusion

**Chapter 4**

 **A FOREGONE CONCLUSION**

Sophie hated thunderstorms.

She burrowed deeper beneath the blanket, tucking her legs against her chest as another bout of thunder boomed overhead, and with all her might she hoped the turbulent weather wasn't strong enough to rip the roof from its hinges.

It shocked her to realize she'd not only slept through the initial part of the storm, but when she roused from her nap it was to discover the house shrouded in darkness due to a power outage. Still disoriented from sleep, somehow she'd managed to find her way to the bathroom and locate the kerosene lamp beneath the sink. After lighting it, she had quickly changed into more comfortable clothing before cocooning herself in bed where she was powerless to do anything but tremble in fear and wait.

As a child, hiding _beneath_ her bed had often been her method of dealing with her phobia but it had been years since she'd resorted to that recourse and her twenty-six year old adult self refused to cower like that again.

It was tempting, though.

The storm outside her window sounded much like a snarling beast, its presence there bearing down on her along with the sinister memories that threatened to surface. After all, it was on a night similar to this one, following Old Sal's funeral service, that the man who had been dogging her footsteps for years had destroyed what little remained of her life back in the city.

Luka Vasiliev was the most feared enforcer of the Sokolov family, and from the very moment Sophie had the misfortune of crossing his path, the dangerous man became infatuated with her. She knew it was only a matter of time before his obsession would lead him to Whispering Grove, and when it did she wasn't certain if she'd be able to escape him a second time. The thought of Luka getting his hands on her again made her stomach roil with unease; he was a man with an unpredictable temper, and not accustomed to being rejected. Tucking her legs more firmly against her chest, Sophie struggled to calm her breathing even as her body was assaulted with another round of shivers.

But as if conjured by her deepest fears, the same feeling of trepidation enveloped her in that moment. And like before with Luka, it heralded the presence of danger in her midst.

A deafening thunderclap nearly drowned out the awful sound, but Sophie stilled beneath her blanket when she heard the _crunch_ of something break in the kitchen.

 _The door!_

Sophie knew this to be so, because her loft was right above the kitchen and she could feel even the slightest vibration travel upward through the wall touching the side of her bed. If not for the creak of the floorboard next to her pantry seconds later, she might have missed the intruder's whisper of movement as he crossed the threshold and proceeded to invade her home.

 _Oh...god..._

 _Ohgodohgodohgod!_

With a trembling hand, Sophie pulled the blanket off and reached for the burner cell phone on the nightstand to her left-only to realize she'd left it charging on the coffee table in the living room, right next to her car keys and messenger bag.

 _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_

How could she have been so careless?!

She eased herself from the bed as quietly as she could, her fearful eyes riveted to the staircase across the room which would lead the intruder up to her loft at any moment. Beyond the wooden railing bordering the stairs, which overlooked the layout of the living room, everything was cast in shadows. The light from the kerosene lamp didn't reach farther than her bedroom, and the comfort she'd felt from its soft glow vanished when she realized it would undoubtedly lure the intruder straight to her.

A soft _thump_ from below spurred her into action.

Casting her eyes about in desperation, for she was certain there were only seconds to spare, Sophie tiptoed to the window and parted the curtains. Twisting the lock with great care, she pushed the window open as lightning struck the heavens and lit the forest in white. A gust of wind burst forth, the scent of rain and damp earth nearly too overpowering in her heightened state to bear. It sharpened her senses, centering her thoughts to a single-minded purpose: survival. She judged the distance to the ground, her shoulders curling inward with despair. The fall would surely cause her irreparable damage, but perhaps if she left the window open it might mislead the intruder into thinking she'd been desperate enough to jump.

It was a perilous gamble, she knew this, but it was the only card she had in her deck to play.

With that accomplished, she tiptoed back to her bed and arranged the blanket in a manner that she hoped wasn't too obvious for what she intended. Then, sending a prayer to Old Sal, she squeezed underneath the bed frame and wiggled herself backward until her entire right side was pressed to the wall. The blanket she had sprawled over the edge of the mattress offered her cover, and a small opening near the foot of the bed allowed her to partially see the staircase from her hiding place. Sophie was thankful she'd positioned the bed in the farthest corner of the room when she moved in. The side frame wasn't wide enough for a larger person to slip through, and the queen-sized structure was made of oak and too heavy to move. She could barely turn her head or shift her position, but that mattered little.

Because in that very moment, the slow _thump, thump, thump_ of the intruder's heavy footfalls ascended the staircase, each measured step causing Sophie's terror to amplify tenfold.

Her heart threatened to burst from her rib cage, and she couldn't breathe in enough air no matter how hard she tried. She blinked back the tears that threatened to spill, forcing herself into a state of detachment, if only to impede the sound of her distress from reaching the intruder's ears.

It would take only a shuddering breath from her lips, the barest sniffle, and she was a goner.

 _Hush, Sophie,_ a tiny voice in her mind implored. _Hush, hush, hush..._

A sense of foreboding paralyzed every muscle in her body when a great shadow suddenly appeared from the stairwell, heralding the intruder's arrival. Even before his bare, dirty feet stepped into her line of vision, Sophie had known deep down to her core he would be a man. Judging by the size of his feet he was a rather large one, and she assumed by his lack of footwear that he was probably a drifter.

A desperate, homeless man who seemed to have little compunction for his actions.

Sophie could feel the air grow thick with tension as he paused mid-step when a clap of thunder boomed. Then, with hurried strides, he crossed to the left side of the room. When he disappeared from view, she made certain to follow the vibration of his footsteps by pressing her hand to the floor and with a jolt she realized he had rushed in the direction of the open window.

A heavy silence descended upon the room.

Sophie closed her eyes and willed the man to believe she had escaped, chanting the thought over and over in her mind like a prayer. _Go away. Please, just go away._ So absorbed in her silent plea, Sophie almost missed the sound of the window closing, followed by the definitive click of the lock. Then, an audible sniff reached her ears just as her eyes popped open in shock when she felt the vibration of his footsteps approach the bed. Her body spasmed in alarm when the blanket was partially lifted, granting her a glimpse of the intruder's filthy toes, but the peculiar sounds that followed next made her skin crawl.

A deep, unhurried intake of breath.

Silence.

Then, as the air expelled from his lungs in a _whooosh_ , a distinctive groan of pleasure followed.

Sophie's eyes rounded in absolute horror, blood leeching from her face so quickly her head spun. The intruder was actually smelling her sheets...and _liking_ it. Her stomach churned at the dreadful possibilities assaulting her mind, of what his actions glaringly affirmed and the unspeakable things that were sure to follow if he were to discover her hiding place. Powerless to stop the tears from spilling this time, Sophie could do nothing but tremble in silence and await her fate at the hands of a lunatic.

He didn't make her wait much longer.

Sophie froze when the blanket was tossed to the floor, and before she could brace herself for the encounter the man dropped to his knees, his massive shadow blocking the light completely. In a blink, an arm suddenly snaked beneath the frame catching her by surprise, and if that didn't make her heart stop, then the sight of the unnatural hand attached to it most certainly did.

Claws.

In place of fingernails, he had black claws.

 _It couldn't be..._

Justice North had assured Sophie the NSO would prevent an encounter like this one from happening under his watch, that such an act was punishable by their laws and the residents of the area they called the Wild Zone had been warned not to break it.

Yet it seemed they had underestimated the resolve of this particular male hell-bent on doing just that, and as a consequence Sophie would be the one to suffer for it.

 _Our Wild Zone residents are the most antisocial Species of Reservation,_ Justice had explained during his visit. _Their animal side rules them, and as such were considered failures by Mercile because they were impossible to control. Too feral and driven by hatred to cohabit with humans for the abuse they suffered at their hands, they live in the most isolated sector of our community._

Sophie's property bordered a part of that sector, and it was for this very reason the NSO leader had taken it upon himself to formally extend a warning about a particular male whose territory was near her home.

A male with an embedded hatred for humans.

 _Should he cross into your territory,_ Justice had cautioned, handing her the burner cell phone. _Please do not contact your human authorities. Dial 1 for Reservation's security line, and we will handle the matter immediately. Keep this phone with you at all times, Ms. Valentine. Both of your lives will depend on your discretion._

 _Argh!_

Claws raked against the wooden floorboards as the Species male explored the space beneath the bed in an attempt to reach her. She caught a glimpse of the lower half of his face, part of it obscured by a long mass of hair, and she cringed when his lips pulled back on a growl revealing his canines. His nostrils flared when she recoiled further from his reach, likely perceiving a whiff of her scent—her _fear_ —for Sophie was certain _that_ was how he had found her in the first place.

" _Female_ ," the male rasped, his voice deep and guttural. A snarl of frustration burst from his lips when he continued to grasp thin air. " _Want."_

Sophie cringed.

The bed frame protested when he attempted to force his broad shoulder through it in an effort to close the distance between them, but when this didn't work—he snapped. Pulling his arm out, the male jumped to his feet and without warning the nightstand next to her bed skidded halfway across the loft, the contents over it scattering in every direction. Sophie then tracked his feet as he stalked to the foot of the bed, and in a show of brute strength he began to lift the massive thing from the floor.

She didn't hesitate for a second.

Sophie rolled to her left and staggered to her feet, ignoring the pain from her leg as she limped as fast as she could toward the staircase while the male's hands were occupied.

Only, she didn't make it very far.

Something coiled around her right ankle and yanked with such force, she lost her footing and stumbled to the floor. The impact pushed the air from her lungs, stunning her momentarily. She attempted to stand, but the thing around her ankle tightened and dragged her back a foot across the floor. Twisting to see what had grabbed her, her lips parted in shock when they locked on something... _bizarre_. It was long and thick, covered in golden brown fur and dappled with black spots. The fuzzy white tip was bent at an odd angle, and even through the wool material of her knee-high socks she could feel warmth radiating from it to her skin. Sophie's gaze traveled upward, trailing the length of the thing until the base of it disappeared inside a rip in the male's tattered jeans, directly above his buttocks.

 _Holy crow,_ she thought, baffled by the sight. _He's got a—a— tail...?_

Tilting her head back, Sophie took in the rest of the male's appearance in a daze. He had a tall, muscular build, even more so than Torrent or Wager, and she had thought _their_ physique quite frightening upon meeting them the first time. He wore a pair of old jeans, ripped above the knee to accommodate the bulge of his muscular calves. The fabric was filthy, and faded from exposure to the elements. The rest of him was unclothed, his skin almost the same golden brown hue as his tail. She noted similar dappled markings tattooed on the muscled plains of his back. They followed a linear path northward, outlining the placement of his spine before they dispersed from either side over his shoulder blades, the edges jutting outward like an upside down 'V'.

And it was following this intricate pattern that Sophie finally caught the glitter of his cat-eyes staring back at her from over his shoulder.

He still held her bed elevated from the floor as though it weighed very little to him, but the moment their eyes met the male released it, causing Sophie to flinch when the bed collided violently with the floor. She wanted to avert her gaze as he turned, but one look at his face kept her from doing so.

Her flight reaction was instinctual.

Sophie scrambled backward, every nerve ending urging her to put as much distance between herself and the male as possible.

Again, she didn't get very far.

The tail secured its hold more firmly on her ankle and pulled her toward him, dragging her rump across the floor. She twisted until she was facedown, her nails scraping against wood in a desperate attempt to stop her progression. The act offered little traction, and before she knew it two large hands grabbed hold of her waist and lifted her from the ground.

 _This is how I die._

The thought came unbidden from the darkest corner of her mind. She felt her body slump in defeat, for what was the point of fighting back when pitted against a creature like him? All it would take to strike her dead, was a single blow from his clawed hand.

Sophie shut her eyes when the world tilted as he adjusted her into his arms, too frightened to look while he committed the act. She felt the heat of his skin press against her side, the strength of his unforgiving hands, and a quiet sob escaped from her trembling lips even as she braced for the pain. A spinning sensation followed, then the thud of his footsteps, and before she could figure out what he intended by moving her, she felt his hands release her and softness cushion the fall.

He'd dropped her on...the bed?

Sophie's eyes flew open in shock when the mattress depressed under the male's bulk, and with growing alarm she watched as he climbed the bed and caged her beneath him. This...she had not expected. There was no longer anger in his expression, just an inquisitive tilt of his head as he studied her features. Trapped, and with barely an arm's length of space between them, she could do nothing but stare back at his alien face.

His facial bone structure was an exotic composition of hard edges and prominent angles, framed by a mass of disheveled tawny hair. A subtle patch of golden brown fur covered the bridge of his nose, accentuating the formation of its peculiar flat shape and drawing attention to the point of his canines denting his lower lip. If she had hoped to find a semblance of remorse or hesitation in his eyes, she found none. They were an arresting shade of moss green, a ring of gold bordering his dilated pupils, and were no less feral in appearance than that of a predator's as it contemplated over the demise of its prey.

Whatever preventative measures Justice North had imposed on the Wild Zone for the sake of cohabitation with an outsider, had been a foregone conclusion. It was obvious by the manner in which the male licked his lips as he locked his gaze to Sophie's throat, that such a creature had no regard for Species Law or the threat of punishment that was sure to follow.

* * *

 _Spill the human's blood..._

 _No, mount her!_

 _Sink your fangs into her flesh until she screams._

Whether that last was intended to inflict pleasure or pain, Arrow couldn't be certain. His beast waged a battle for dominance with two opposing desires. His hatred for humans urged him to end the female's life, even as her heady scent checked that impulse. His attention lingered over the column of her neck, a place he longed to trace with his tongue and learn the taste of her skin, but the clothing she wore didn't offer much to his view. He considered using his claw to pluck the uppermost button and allow him access to it, but when the female shuddered his attention drew to her face. Arrow frowned as he took in her peculiar human features— a delicate bone structure, the slender formation of her nose, pink lips that wouldn't stop trembling—and compared to Species females, he insisted this frail human was _not_ beautiful.

 _Nothing_ about her made his pulse race, nor the blood rush to his shaft.

Not the honey-gold of her eyes, large and doe-like as they stared back at him with a mixture of confusion and fear. Not her too soft skin, with a complexion so fair he could follow the trail of her veins without difficulty. And certainly not her thick mane spread out over the bedding, its unusual color a subtle blend of fire and sunlight.

Then, there was the matter of her diminutive stature.

Arrow had never felt more aware of his strength and size, until he had trapped the small, docile human beneath him. A Species female would've bared her teeth at him by now, or raked her claws against his flesh if she felt the need to challenge him for the privilege to mount her. The rush from a fight between a male and the female he courted was merely a mating precursor to heighten their arousal, a natural act among New Species, but this human was obviously too weak to challenge even the less formidable of the males roaming the Wild Zone.

It was fortunate Arrow had caught on to the female's scent before the storm, and not those less worthy of such a prize. This, however, did not mean her presence near his territory was welcome and it was a matter he intended to rectify...

Once her heat cycle ended, of course.

Arrow's eyes roamed over the female as he kneaded the bed, contemplating on where to begin undressing her. She seemed to favor clothing much too large for her body, the concept of modesty still too foreign to him. Her shirt was oversize, the hem long enough to reach above her knees, and beneath it he had caught a glimpse of another fabric concealing her sex when she attempted to escape. Intrigued, Arrow grabbed the edge of the shirt with his right hand but the moment he began to lift it the female bucked and slapped it away. Amused by this small act of defiance, he didn't attempt to stop her when she pushed backward against the bedding to escape from beneath him. It was only when she made a move to sit up, he grabbed onto her ankle and dragged her back with such force that her shirt rode up to just below the swell of breasts in the process. The female sucked in a sharp breath and tried to cover herself, but Arrow secured both her hands with his larger one and pinned them above her head. She fought against his hold, her torso twisting with frantic motions, but at the sound of his low growl she froze.

"Be still," Arrow murmured, brushing his fingertips over her soft abdomen. "I wish to explore."

The female panted as the scent of her fear intensified, an unwarranted reaction since his touch was not causing her pain. Still, he made no effort to reassure her; fear encourage obedience.

Mercile had taught him this lesson well.

As Arrow's hand followed the curve of her waist, he decided this human was too thin. She had no muscle definition that he could discern, and she weighed very little when he'd held her in his arms. How did Shield and those other males mount their humans without breaking them? The female would crumble beneath his weight, he was certain of this. Moving his hand upward, he felt her frame tense when his thumb brushed the soft skin beneath her right breast. Small bumps prickled across her flesh when he deliberately added more pressure there, each stroke causing his shaft to pulse and harden with need. With a flick of his wrist, he uncovered her breasts to his hungry gaze and at the sight of them the male couldn't help but purr in appreciation.

They were _perfect_.

Not too large to appear cumbersome against her slender frame, but there was just enough there to offer a feast for the feline's growing appetite. He used the weight of his lower body to subdue her thrashing legs, then his hand to cup the precious bounty, and too engrossed in his quest to latch his mouth around the rosy nipple he didn't notice her lips moving.

Not at first, anyway.

In a corner of his mind, the rational part not ruled by his beast's determination to mount the female, he thought her continual silence a bit _odd._ Even when he lifted the bed to reach her, he had braced for the shrilling noise of her screaming but was surprised when he heard none.

The female was either very brave, or very stubborn.

Testing that theory, he grazed the sharp tip of his fang against the delicate bud of flesh, swirling his tongue over it until her breath quickened and she tugged on his hands with renewed vigor, but still not a single cry of pleasure filled the room.

Nor a whiff of her arousal.

"Do not resist it," Arrow rasped. He moved upward, shifting his attention from her breast to her ear, as he traced the shell with his tongue while his hand traveled south toward her sex. " _Give in, my rebellious doe."_

Again, the female withheld her voice. She bumped the side of her face hard against his, forcing the male to raise his head so she wouldn't cause herself damage. In doing so, his eyes locked with her pleading ones brimming with unshed tears but it was the incessant manner in which she continued to move her lips that made his hand pause before touching her mound.

 _Strange_ , Arrow thought, centering his attention there. The way her tongue lifted before her lips puckered to form an 'O' seemed vaguely familiar. It was almost as if she were saying—

"ARROW, _NO!"_

A snarl burst from the feline's lips at the sound of an intruder calling out from within the human dwelling. The female beneath him jerked violently when Arrow let out a roar, her lips parted in a silent scream, but he had only a second to spare her a glance before pushing himself off the bed in order to confront the threat. He crouched when the sound of pounding footsteps rushed up the stairs, his tail lashing in anticipation for the fight heading his way.

It came as a shock, however, when 619—no, _Andromeda—_ was the one to enter the female's den and not the rivaling male he expected.

The canine skidded to a halt upon seeing Arrow on the floor, for he was positioned to pounce on her with claws extended. Her NSO uniform was wet and plastered to her body, her feet bared to the elements and forming a puddle of water on the floor. Her light brown mane was secured in a low ponytail at her back, revealing a face that held very little softens despite her sex. Born as siblings by blood, Andromeda and 43 had shared a few physical aspects—both canine and human—but their most noticeable one had been the dark blue coloration of their eyes.

Hers, however, regarded him now in utter contempt.

Andromeda sniffed the air and growled, balling her hands into fists as her attention shifted toward the bed. Driven by instinct, Arrow stood to place himself directly in her line of sight but he could tell by the way her eyes rounded in shock that she had seen the human.

"You _bastard_ ," she whispered.

Arrow's tail twitched at the derogatory word, but he said nothing in return. He owed no explanation to anyone for his actions, and he would not apologize for giving into his nature.

His beast began to pace, growing tired of the canine's presence there while a more pressing matter awaited him on the bed.

"Leave," Arrow commanded in a low growl. "That human is not your concern."

"She is under the NSO's protection, you arrogant male!" Andromeda shouted, raking a hand through her mane in a frustrated gesture. "This territory is off limits, and you deliberately disobeyed a direct order from _Justice_. What gave you the right to break into her home, and attack her like a mindless _beast_!"

Affronted by the accusation, Arrow snarled a warning at the canine. He wouldn't kill her, but if she continued to provoke him he would be forced to assert his dominance.

"Go ahead," Andromeda challenged on a sneer, spreading her arms wide. "Hit me. Show me what you learned from those soldiers at the testing facility." She thrust her chin toward the bed. "If you are determined to _rape_ a female who cannot even scream for help, it is clear they taught you well."

Arrow took a step back, as if the canine's very words had delivered a physical blow to his gut. He knew that word— _rape._ It meant to force mate a female and cause her pain, while the male took his own pleasure with her body. The purpose of the act was to terrorize the victim. To establish a type of control.

And in the end, break her spirit.

That...was not his intention.

"Why do you appear troubled, Arrow?" Andromeda shook her head in apparent confusion, dropping her arms to her side as she took a hesitant step forward. "Did she not struggle in your arms, or attempt to escape your attentions?"

Arrow cast his gaze to the side.

"Did she not make an effort to communicate with you?" Andromeda continued relentlessly, taking another step forward. "Justice told me it is physically _impossible_ for her to speak, but did she not _beg_ you to stop with her tears?"

Arrow squeezed his eyes shut, the unbidden image of her pleading eyes causing his teeth to clench. The female was defective? How was he to know this?

 _Because you were blinded by your own needs._

"She _did_ beg, didn't she?" Andromeda said, crossing the room until she stood directly in front of him. Seeming to take his silence as an answer, she narrowed her eyes at him and delivered her final blow. "If 43 were here, she would be ashamed of what you did to that human."

Arrow flinched, unable to bear the thought, but drawn by the scent of the female's fear he looked over his shoulder and knew this to be true. She had backed herself into the farthest corner, huddled against the wall with her knees pressed to her chest. She was rocking her small frame back and forth, quietly weeping while her fearful eyes tracked his every movement as if anticipating another assault. Turning his back on her quickly, for he couldn't stand to see the way she was looking at him, he took a deep breath and attempted to control the sudden impulse to drive his fist through the wall.

Escape.

He needed to escape

Spinning on his heel, Arrow rushed to the nearest window and forced the glass panel open. Andromeda called out to him, but he ignored the canine and the words she could wield against him more effectively than her claws. Instead, before he lifted his leg over the windowsill, he forced his gaze back to the human female. Her heat scent still tempted him, causing his beast to salivate with renewed hunger, but the knowledge of the damage he could've done to her cooled his ardor.

"Forgive me," he whispered.

At hearing these words, the human's face crumpled with fresh tears and at the sight of her despair, Arrow pushed himself from the ledge and welcomed the biting cold of the rain as he landed on the ground. Then, without looking back, he dashed into the dark forest toward the secret path which would lead him back to the Wild Zone. He dared not remain another second in her presence.

The human was too tempting, too vulnerable, and he could only control his beast for so long.

* * *

 **Author's Note: OMG, sorry for the wait, readers. Weaving parts of Book 1 into Book 2 feels a lot like trying to fit a circle into a square, but I've managed to smooth down those sharp edges a bit. If the name Sokolov sounds familiar, you may want to read back on Book 1 where we get a glimpse into Bishop's history when he was owned by a Mafia crime lord. And apparently keeping up with tradition, the hero of this story leaves quite an impression upon meeting our heroine, but unfortunately it's not a favorable one. Ah, well. Let's see how this bad kitty redeems himself. Props to Andromeda for being a badass. Thoughts? )**


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